


Like the Most Improbable Dream

by sentimental_boy



Series: Matt Murdock imagines [79]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Matt gets drunk and talks about his feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 09:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentimental_boy/pseuds/sentimental_boy
Summary: Matt takes you on a Halloween adventure.





	Like the Most Improbable Dream

 

You’re sitting on your bed, eating dinner and watching spooky movies. Not the best Halloween, but as an adult, you don't have many options. You decorate your house and watch scary movies or go to a party. But you're new to New York and Matt’s your only friend here. At least he’s not out of place running around in that costume tonight. Anyway, you’re content. Or you were until your picture quality goes grainy and the no internet dinosaur shows up on your screen. Which isn’t okay. You can deal with many things going out in this shitty apartment (you’re without hot water for a week) but you pay good money for your internet connection. You set your laptop to the side with a huff before heading into the living room.

 

When you turn on the lamp next to the router, your heart jumps into your throat. None other than  _ Daredevil _ sits in your armchair with a shit eating grin. “Mother fucking shit, Matt. Did your super senses hear me going into cardiac arrest, there?”

 

"You're fine." He laughs.

 

You wish you could see the way the way his eyes crinkle. You move on, stomping down your feelings for him. It’s not going to happen. “Yeah, no thanks to you. What are you doing here? Did you turn off my wifi to lure me out?”

 

“I did.”

 

“Okay…” You go to fix your internet but he blocks you. You cross your arms. “Can you feel the look I’m giving you, Matt? Or hear it somehow? Because I’ll have you know, it’s not happy and very intimidating.”

 

His smile doesn’t falter. “I’m not letting you sit in your room and watch scary movies until you pass out. I know how much you love Halloween, and we’re going to go have some fun.”

 

“While I see that you’re already dressed for it, you don’t have to do this, Matt. I’m fine sitting here, pretending I don’t hear children knocking on my door.”

 

“Y/n, you’ve had your decorations up since the beginning of September. Come on.”

 

“What if I  _ want  _ to watch scary movies until I pass out?”

 

“Then I’ll turn your wifi back on and come sit with you. But if you ask me, it would be more fun after dinner and a few drinks somewhere themed.”

 

“Themed, you say?”

 

He nods. “I knew you’d like that.”

 

“I don’t have a costume.”

 

He pulls his glasses out of a pocket and his folded up cane out of another one. He sets the glasses on the bridge of your nose, unfolds his cane and puts it in your hand. “There you go.”

 

“Matt, this is horribly offensive.” You can’t help but laugh.

 

“Well, I’m blind and I say it’s okay.”

 

You roll your eyes, taking off the glasses and handing them back. “I’ll be sure and tell everyone that when they glare at me. And side note: I won’t have to pretend that I’m blind if you don’t clean those things.

 

“Yeah, I guess I don’t pay much attention to the lenses.” He shrugs. “And it’s New York, no one cares.”

 

“I think I have something in my closet.”

 

Matt snorts. “Of course you do.”

 

“I sense sarcasm, but I see no need.”

 

He smiles. “Of course you don’t.”

 

“Okay, I’ll go change. You turn my wifi back on so I don’t forget and use all my data when my phone doesn’t connect.”

 

“Deal.”

 

—0—

 

Matt stands as you come out of your room. He tilts his head to the side. “Are those… handcuffs?” He tries not to sound too interested. It’s a joke, obviously. You’re friends. Buddies. Pals. And that’s fine.

 

“Most of my costumes have been heavily reliant on makeup, so to save you from waiting for an hour for me to get ready, I’m a cop for the night.”

 

“I appreciate it, but I want you to have fun tonight. We can talk while you do your makeup if you want.”

 

“It’s fine, Matt, thanks. So, where are we going?” You ask, heading out the door.

 

“There’s this place called the Beetle House. It’s Tim Burton themed. It’s a bit of a drive but I figured you wouldn’t mind.” He takes your arm at the elbow.

 

“Um, I know what it is. You know we have to have reservations to eat though, right?”

 

“Yeah. I made reservations a month ago to be safe. It is Halloween.”

 

“Matt, that's so sweet. You planned this?”

 

He shrugs and adjusts his grip on your arm. “A little.”

 

You stop from where you’re walking to wait for the Uber and hug him. “Thanks.”

 

When your arms wrap around his waist, he has to force himself to relax. He doesn't know why he tenses up whenever you show affection because he loves it. He loves the feeling of you pressed against him. It's probably because of  _ how much  _ he loves the feeling. “Uh, yeah." His words come out as a puff of breath into your hair as he returns the hug. "I know we’re both busy and you don’t know very many people here yet. You deserve to have some fun.” He squeezes you, trying not to acknowledge how he’s feeling.

 

“Well, you do too, Matt.” You pull back, reluctant as you are, and wait for him to take your arm again.

 

“I always have a good time when I’m with you.”

 

You know what he meant. You’re friends. That doesn't stop you from hearing it as something more for a moment. “Yeah.” You murmur. “I’ve missed you.”

 

—0—

 

The car ride is long, but it doesn’t feel like it is. Not with Matt next to you, catching up with each other. You miss the times when you got to do this more. When Matt would actually let loose more often. Lately, he seems so weighed down. Not that you can blame him for it. Who wouldn’t be, doing what he does?”

 

From when you get out of the car to the entrance of the Beetle House, you get some double takes. Multiple people compliment Matt on how real his costume looks and you laugh. If only they knew. A couple people notice the irony of your costumes together.

 

As you enter the building, Matt notices the heat signature of black lights and a lot of weird shapes. He doesn’t care much until you start describing everything from the paintings on the walls, to the strange face over the bar, to the characters walking around. Tonight it’s harder to tell them apart from the customers, but you know what you’re looking at. You’ve been wanting to come here for a while. Matt’s never had much of an opinion on horror movies, or Tim Burton movies because he only ever watches— Listens?— to TV when he’s with other people. It’s usually to humor them. But he knows you love it. And he loves you, so he loves hearing your enthusiasm as you give him a little snippet into your world. Wow. He loves you. When did that happen? He knows he’s loved you as a friend and liked you as something more, but love, like this? That, he hadn’t put into a conscious thought before now. But now that he has, he can’t deny that it’s there.

 

“This isn’t too much for you?” You ask, concerned.

 

He smiles. “I live in New York. It’s calmer in here than it is walking past a club at night. Anyway, the dining side of things is a little calmer.”

 

That sounds like a lie to you, but you let it go. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you think that I think you’re fragile. I know you deal with that enough as it is.”

 

“It’s okay. We wouldn’t be as close as we are if I thought you thought I was fragile.” He shrugs. “Besides, it’s kind of nice to have someone fussing over me because they care about me and not because they pity me.”

 

You don’t know what to do with that bout of honesty. You want to say something meaningful back or hug him or something but you don’t know what to do that’s not overboard or not enough. “You got it.” You settle for.

 

—0—

 

When the Uber drops you off at home, you and Matt are just past tipsy. You stumble into your apartment with Matt behind you. He takes off his mask to reveal that ridiculous hood he wears under it, still flush to his head.

 

“You look like an astronaut before they have their helmet on.”

 

He shrugs. “I don’t remember what that looks like.”

 

“Ridiculous. You look ridiculous, Matt. If you were in a tv show and you took your helmet off, they would have to cut away so that they could fix you and hope the audience doesn’t notice that you’re also missing the protective gear on your neck and ears.”

 

“It’s better than someone getting a lucky shot at my jugular.” He slides his hood off, ruffling his hair so it’s not plastered to his head. “There, are you happy?”

 

“Yes. as fun as that was, I missed your face.”

 

He grins and plugs his headphones into his phone, only putting them in one ear.

 

“What’re you doing?” You ask.

 

“Calling another Uber to pick me up now that I know you’re safe.”

 

“You could’ve just asked the one we had to wait.”

 

“But this gives me more time with you.” He smiles a wide, dopey grin.

 

“So stay the night. I have a futon, we can rock paper scissors for the bed.”

 

The big bad vigilante— in almost full costume— honest to God  _ giggles _ .

 

“Careful, if a criminal hears that, you’ll lose your street cred.”

 

And there it is again. That melodic sound coming from his throat. Melodic, if for no other reason than that it’s so rare to see him like this.

 

“My street cred.” He grins, coming down from his laughter. After a moment of silence, he pipes up again. “Why do I have my headphones in?” He mumbles, yanking them out and tossing them on the table next to the sofa.

 

“You were going to call an Uber, then I convinced you to stay the night.”

 

“How do you know I’m convinced?”

 

“Because you’re drunk enough to have short-term memory loss. And you love me.” You’re proud of how you managed to get that out in a very casual, platonic tone. Especially with the state you're in. Most of the time it’s not something you manage when you’re sober. At least Matt’s kind enough to play along.

 

“You make a good point.”

 

“I usually do. Now let’s see who’s going to sleep in the bed.”

 

“I’m too tired to know if you’re throwing the game. Let’s sleep together.”

 

It takes you a minute to form a response. Because Matt so bluntly asking to sleep with you made your brain stop working. Before you can think of anything to say, Matt’s talking again.

 

“I didn’t mean sleep together like that. I meant, both of us, sleeping in the bed.”

 

“I know, Matt. That’s fine.”

 

He tilts his head to the side and sets his brows into a hard line. “Then why is your heart beating so fast?” He asks, leaning closer.

 

You don’t have anything to say that isn’t incriminating, so you try to regulate your breathing instead. “Matt, can we not do this please?”

 

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, throwing his arms over your shoulders. “I was just worried about you. You promise you’re alright?”

 

“Yes, Matt.” You breathe out a sigh of relief that he’s dropping it.

 

He sits back. “Do you have anything I can wear?”

 

“I think you might have a pair of sweatpants laying around here somewhere.”

 

“From when?”

 

“I stayed at your apartment one night and I borrowed them. I never gave them back because I figured you’d stumble in here one night in a state that you shouldn’t be backflipping home in. This isn’t quite the situation I was expecting, but aren’t you glad I stole your pants now?”

 

He laughs, leaning closer in his drunken abandon. “Yes, thank you for stealing my pants.”

 

“Any time.” You get up to rifle through your closet. When you turn around, he’s already stripping. “Uh, nice briefs.”

 

He shrugs. “Even if I go in the bathroom to change, I’m still going to be able to see you in my own way. At this close of a range, it’s hard to turn it off. We’re close enough. I figured if you don’t have privacy, I don’t need it either.”

 

“That’s… sweet, in an odd way.” You throw his pants at him before you take your shirt off.

 

“I try to be a gentleman.” He grins as he plops on the bed.

 

You snort, following him over after you change. “I’m not sure that ‘taking your pants off so you’re not the only one sneaking a peak’ is in the gentleman’s code of conduct.”

 

“You know what I mean.” He sways toward you. “I’ve talked to you about my senses before. More than I have with most people.”

 

His tone isn’t uncomfortable or upset. If you didn’t know better, you’d describe it as flirty. But well, you always find his voice sexy. You're blaming it on the alcohol. “I know.” You murmur. “It feels like a weird thing to thank someone for, but I know how hard it can be to open up. I’m glad I get to know the real you.”

 

He sways toward you again. At first, you think it’s the alcohol. But then you’re trying to process that he’s getting closer while his lips connect with yours. Your brain catches up just before he starts to think you don’t want this. You hold the side of his face as you kiss back with renewed vigor. It’s sloppy and laced with desperation, but it’s been a long time coming and you couldn’t be happier. When you part, Matt has the biggest smile on his face.

 

“Is that why you’ve been so open with me?” You ask.

 

“Well my feelings might have let me share more than I usually would, but you kept being so accepting and curious, and I never found myself regretting it.” He grins. “Besides, Halloween is the perfect night to tell you.”

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“Well, there’s nothing scarier than admitting your feelings for a friend to that friend.”

 

“I see your ‘admitting feelings to a friend’ and raise you: commitment.”

 

He laughs. “Two people afraid of communication and commitment. This’ll be interesting.”

 

You lean in and give him a soft peck on the lips, resting your forehead on his. “It doesn’t seem as scary with you.”

 

—0—

 

You wake up with your head resting in the crook of Matt’s arm, and his other one slung over your waist. You have a moment of confusion that’s about to give way to panic, but last night starts coming back to you. You didn’t have  _ that _ much to drink last night. You and Matt got together last night if you’re not mistaken. You’d doubt yourself, except you’re laying in one, shirtless Matt Murdock’s arms. You know that he always sleeps shirtless and that he doesn’t have a shirt here, but you remember last night. You trace the scar that skips across his chest, proof of how close he gets to danger every night he goes out. It’s a reality check. It would’ve been very easy for you not to have had this. He could’ve gotten overconfident last night and you would’ve been none the wiser, in your house with your movies and candy.

 

—0—

 

Matt stirs, waking to your light touch on his chest. At the following kiss that lands on his collarbone, he grins. The events of last night come back to him and he beams. “Morning, sweetheart.” He kisses the top of your head.

 

“Morning.”

 

Matt waits for you to say more, but you don’t. “So, are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

 

“What, how you got me drunk and talked to me about commitment?”

 

He chuckles. “Yes. Considering we were drunk, I thought it was worth readdressing.”

 

“Fair enough. I meant every word.”

 

He smiles. “Me too.”

 


End file.
